The Children of Galactor
by lborgia88
Summary: This fic is a back story for two Gatchaman episodes. Joe met a girl at a race track in episode 31. Later, in episode 81, he learned that she'd been the Devil Star he'd encountered in episode 31 and that she'd also known Alan, his childhood friend...
1. Chapter 1

Thank you, Transmute Jun and Clouddancer, for beta reading!

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**The Children of Galactor**

**Part 1:**

**She sped along the train track, struggling to gather her wits about her in the midst of a mission that had gone so horribly awry. She was the only Devil Star here who was still alive and she'd just received her final orders. She could see the Condor now, in the distance. He was waiting for her on the tracks, just like Onna Taicho had said.**

**In the midst of chaos and uncertainty, she had to make a decision and she had to make it now.**

_10 years ago:_

The cobblestone street offered sanctuary from the sun. It was bordered by high stone walls, occasional ornate gates which offered the boy views of lawns and gardens, and shaded by stands of lemon and olive trees which cast their shadows over the walls even to where he stood. Further beyond were glimpses of grand, pale dwellings with porticos and high arched windows, capped with expanses of red clay tiles, glowing in the heat. On one side, somewhere beyond the houses, he thought, would be stretches of golden sand and then blue water. He was sure he could feel a cooler breeze wafting through the bars of one gate, though he couldn't see from where he stood, holding onto it with both hands as he peered between its wrought iron bars. It was so quiet, and there was no one in sight, anywhere. The boy might have been able to squeeze himself between the bars to find his way to the sea. Yet he hesitated, peering around nervously with the air of one who knows that he is not where he belongs and if seen, will be in trouble.

"Stay out of trouble till I get home tonight." That's what his mother told him every day when she left, before the sun was even up –that, and "If anything happens, go see Mrs. Catania." But just because an elderly widow was renting her attic to a young one, it didn't mean that this elderly widow had any real desire to deal with a kid. School had started again and these days, Mrs. Catania shouted for him in the morning when it was time for him to start walking there but that was about it. After school, he never went home; he would just start walking, wherever his feet seemed to want to go that day, exploring until the sun was getting low.

Many days, the urge to roam took hold of him even before he got to school. The teacher didn't seem to care if he showed up or not. As young as he was, he already knew that on BC Island there were people who mattered and people who did not, and that he was destined to be in the latter camp and beneath notice. Normally, his forays took him to the noisy, crowded market or the bustling waterfront docks of the town. Today had been different; a bunch of boys he vaguely recognized as infrequent schoolmates had spotted him in the market and had headed his way, menacingly. He'd managed to elude them –he knew all the convoluted back alleys- and had kept walking rapidly, away from the town. But now, on this quiet, shaded street, peering through this gate, he felt as if he'd discovered another world –the world of the people who _really_ mattered.

"Who are you?" demanded an imperious voice from behind him, causing him to hastily let go of the gate and turn round. But the person that he faced was only a boy too. This boy was about the same age as him –probably eight or so- and also had light brown hair and blue eyes, but there the resemblance ended. This boy's hair was neatly trimmed; his shirt was pristine white and, like his khaki shorts, it showed evidence of having been pressed with an iron. His socks were as white as his shirt, and his shoes shone with polish. In a face no older than his, there was something unusual about this boy's eyes. They bore scant childish softness; rather, they were sharply angled, and intense.

"I… I'm Alan Russo."

The other boy continued to scrutinize him, not speaking. Alan looked down at his own shabby shirt and pants and scuffed shoes, feeling his face flush, knowing that he had to get out of here. The other boy seemed to be by himself, at least for the moment; now was his chance to make a run for it, for the second time that day.

But he glanced up briefly at the other boy's face, and what he saw was not a sneer or any expression of contempt or imminent hostility. The other boy was still studying Alan, and seemed merely curious. In fact, Alan might have even thought he looked _envious_, but that didn't make any sense…

Now the boy was holding out his right hand.

"I'm George Asakura, pleased to meet you."

Alan was flustered by this unfamiliar show of manners –indeed by this whole situation- but he composed himself sufficiently to be able to extend his own hand to shake George's.

"Do you live in the town?" asked George, almost eagerly.

"Uh, yeah." Alan was still disconcerted by this boy's gaze, even though it seemed pretty clear now that he wasn't in any trouble. Yet.

"That's cool," said George. "It's so _boring_ here," he added, looking around him while restlessly scraping the sole of one shoe against the cobblestones.

Alan wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Is it far?"

"Is what far?"

"The _town_!" said George, impatiently, "Did you walk here?"

"Oh… yeah."

"Let's go there now then!" George's eyes were agleam with mischief.

"But… But won't you… Are you allowed?" Alan couldn't imagine an odder sight than this immaculate scion of privilege wandering around the docks or the market.

George glanced through the gate at the house beyond it, smirking.

"My Mom and Dad have some guests, and I guess they're a big deal. They told me to go play outside. If I go somewhere, they won't know." He started walking down the street.

Alan still hesitated. George looked back at him.

"Come on, let's go!"

So Alan went, trotting to catch up.

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"I'll show you where they throw the empty fruit crates. Sometimes I find an apple or something still inside one." They were in the market now, as he'd already given George a tour of the docks. George was standing right out in the open, surveying everything around him. Grown ups were staring at him. Alan didn't blame them; George just looked _wrong_ here. They really needed to lay low for awhile.

"It's this way." He tugged at George's arm. But George was staring intently at something across the square –another boy, dressed much like Alan, who was sidling up to one of the fruit stalls. One of the boys he'd evaded earlier that morning, thought Alan.

"Is he trying to-" Before George could finish his question, the boy had grabbed an orange and had begun running.

But not fast enough. Another fruit vendor grabbed him, and gave him a clout to the head that made him cry out and drop the orange, before fleeing again.

"Let's get out of here," said Alan, but George's eyes were, once again, lit with mischief.

"That kid's no good. I bet I can do it and not get caught."

As it turned out, George could indeed. Alan found himself running faster than he ever had in his life to catch up with George, who'd turned down an alley a few blocks from the market and stopped, seemingly aware he was safely out of range of pursuit now. He was breathing hard but laughing gleefully between gasps, and holding three pears.

"I've never seen anyone get _three_!" gasped Alan. George, still laughing, tossed one to Alan.

"He got lucky," said a new voice, "And if you two know what's good for you, you'll hand them over to us."

It was the boy they'd observed before, and now he had two friends with him. They were all bigger than George and himself; they were also blocking the alley's entrance, and a quick glance reminded Alan that the other way was a dead end. Alan froze, still clutching his pear, and the boys advanced a step closer, smiling the smiles of those who know their prey is cornered and outnumbered.

"Hah! You want them?" yelled George. With perfect aim, he drilled a pear straight into the first boy's nose.

"Oww!" he cried, clutching his face.

Wham! The second pear hit another boy in the eye. But there was still a third boy.

George hastily looked to Alan, seeking back up.

And somehow, Alan was frozen no more –he flung his pear.

He only managed to strike the third boy on his chin, but it was enough. As he and George stood together, fists raised, the third boy turned and joined his companions who were staggering away, uttering incoherent threats of future revenge.

In the wake of their retreat, Alan could only stare in heady amazement. Never before had he stood his ground and fought back. But before, he had always been alone. George was merely walking over to where the boys had stood, stooping to reclaim the pears.

"I guess these are still okay to eat," he said, wiping them off on his shorts.

So they found a shady bit of street, with an overturned crate to sit on, and did just that.

"Hey Alan, let's start a gang," said George, between bites.

"A gang? Us?"

"Yeah, I heard my Dad tell another guy that that's how he got where he is –he started a gang. We can do it too."

"You… want _me_?" asked Alan cautiously. His parents had been very young, very in love and had barely had a penny between them when wanderlust brought them from far away to BC Island, but here his father had died even before Alan was born. Here on an island of large and deeply intertwined families that went back many generations, he and his mother were alone and Alan had always been an outsider.

"Well, yeah! I'm asking you, aren't I? You dummy!" said George, giving Alan a friendly punch in the shoulder.

For the first time that day, Alan laughed. Something about this George made him believe that _anything_ could be possible.

"Okay!" He even went so far as to punch George's arm, lightly, in return.

"Cool!" said George, standing up and wiping his sticky hands on his shorts, "Now, we have to find a hideout and-"

"What does your Dad do now?" Alan couldn't imagine how starting a street gang could lead to a lifestyle like the Asakuras', but what did he know?

George shrugged. "Something with banks, I guess. I hear him talking about accounts and transfers a lot. I know he's important, though!"

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Alan peered outside the door, as it was about the right time. No sign of George, though. But as George was wont to complain bitterly, his mother did make him finish all his lessons before he was allowed to go outside. Maybe that had just taken longer than usual today. He paced around restlessly inside the dark space that was their hide out, pausing to hit the punching bag a few times. Okay, it was just a cast-off canvas laundry bag from the resort where his Mom worked in housekeeping, filled with sawdust, but it sufficed. He and George were proud of their hide out, which also featured a dart board (booty from a raid on a rival gang's hide out), a stash of food (pinched from the market), a couple of hammocks, and a stack of comic books and magazines (some stolen, some from his mother -left behind by guests at the resort).

He and George had discovered this seemingly-abandoned warehouse room on the outskirts of town some months ago, on that first day they'd established their gang. The "Condors" was their gang's official but little-used name. Alan had suggested "Harriers" that first day, thinking of those swift birds that he'd seen diving from the sky, but George had insisted that he'd seen a picture of a condor once in a book and that they looked more "bad-ass." They hadn't accomplished much in the way of recruiting though. In fact Alan hadn't even tried; as far as he was concerned, a staunchly loyal second –Alan himself- at his side was all that George needed, and George seemed to agree.

Well, not _George_, really; he'd decided that both their names sounded "wimpy." Alan was supposed to call him by his gang name, "Bad Boy Joe," and he himself was now just "Al," like the legendary Capone.

Alan punched the bag a few more times; he wanted to stay in practice. Since that first day, he'd been in a lot of fights with other boys and now he won most of them. No, he never had to run away and hide in the back alleys anymore. Granted, it was nearly always George who started the fights, but now Alan could dive into the fray after him, fists flying, without fear.

No one ever lasted long against George, with his innate martial prowess and his unshakeable confidence that all his endeavors would succeed.

Yes, all the town kids in their sphere acknowledged that George was a "Boss" in the making and now Alan garnered respect too, albeit largely by association.

Life was good.

Alan went over to the door to peer outside again. At last, this time he could see George approaching, peering around carefully to make sure no one was following him. His spotless white shirts and shiny shoes were a thing of the past now. He'd long since stolen a rusty colored t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans from some unlucky family's clothesline and had retrieved a pair of sneakers from a trash can, and he wore them like a uniform.

He knew where George lived, even if most of the kids they encountered in the streets of the town didn't, and he still couldn't quite believe that George's parents permitted him to run loose the way he did. In his own case, it made sense; his Mom was _always_ at work or too tired to pay much attention to anything Alan was doing. He'd asked George about it once.

"My Mom doesn't like it," George had admitted, "But Dad tells her she can't 'coddle' me forever and one time he said 'Let him enjoy freedom while he still can,' and that shut her up."

"What did he mean?" Alan had asked, but George had just shrugged.

But now George was coming into the shack.

"Hi, Al."

"Hi, Joe."

And yet another day of fun and adventure began.

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Crouched low behind a prickly hedge, Alan couldn't see much. Beside him, George stood up enough to peer over it.

"Sweet!" he whispered, sounding awe-struck.

They were much further afield than usual today. Sure, they still enjoyed wreaking havoc in the town, but lately they were seeking newer thrills; in fact today they were in the hills above the town, covertly approaching the island's most exclusive Social Club. Alan had never actually seen it before, but George seemed to know his way around and he'd brought them past the tennis courts to the edge of a parking lot, shaded by trees and bordered by hedges.

Alan raised himself up to see what George was staring at and was a bit disappointed when it proved merely to be a car. But then, George was nuts about cars.

"That's a Bugatti Veyron," whispered George, eyes wide with excitement. "I saw one last year in the Luman Kingdom when I was there with my Dad, but I didn't know anybody here had one!"

"Nice," said Alan, looking around to make sure no one had spotted them. They needed to keep moving.

"Sixteen cylinders, a thousand horse power, top speed of 250 miles an hour…" George was whispering now.

"What do you want to do here?"

What George wanted to do, it turned out, was to crawl around more hedges until they were close to the board at the Clubhouse where the valets hung the parked cars' keys. Now that they were there, Alan realized what George was going to try to do.

"George, are you crazy?" he hissed. In its audacity, this went way, _way_ beyond any of their previous schemes.

"I just want to look inside it, that's all -and don't call me George!"

He waited until the valets were busy elsewhere before he made his move, and soon the two of them were sitting inside the car. The sun was fading rapidly from the sky and the car's windows were tinted, so Alan hoped desperately that no one would notice what they were doing. He kept watch while George, in the driver's seat, cast a rapturous gaze over the car's interior.

But then he put the key in the ignition and turned it.

"_What are you doing?"_

"It's nothing, Al! I just need the power on to move my seat."

Even with the seat fully forward, George had to perch on its edge to reach his feet to the pedals and he could hardly see over the dash. He had one hand on the steering wheel now, and one on the shifter, pretending he was driving. Alan had to admit, George looked like he knew what he was doing. He wasn't about to admit, though, that this was the first car that he had ever been inside.

"Come on, Joe. We have to get out of here!"

"Al, I have to try it! I just have to! If anyone comes, we'll just get out and make a run for it!"

"Nooo!" But it was too late; George had turned the key a notch further and the Veyron's engine came to life with a deep growl. Alan could only stare at George in horrified admiration.

The new confidence he'd found, through their friendship, was still no match for George's; there truly was nothing _he_ was afraid to do…

George was driving, and they were exiting the parking lot by a back road. They weren't going very fast but still –_they were really doing this_.

They'd reached the main road now, and George was turning the car onto it. Alan wasn't sure quite what George did next, with the pedals or the shifter, but the car leapt forward with a roar, flinging both boys against their seat backs. A couple seconds later, it halted with a smash and sent them flying forward. Alan hit the dashboard head first, and the world went dark.

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Men's voices… angry voices.

"It's just a couple of goddamned little street rats!"

The car's doors were opening. The engine stopped roaring. Still in a stupor, Alan felt someone grab the back of his shirt and yank him from the car. Something warm was trickling down his forehead. _Blood?_ He was being dragged, and then flung face first onto the ground. A heavy foot came down hard on his back, knocking the air from his lungs and pinning him in place. He'd managed to turn his head to one side, even as he tried desperately to breathe and his heart raced, but no words would come from his throat. He could see George suffering the same fate. He too had been thrown to the ground by another man, and was being held there by a foot on the back of his neck. Beyond them, he could see the Veyron, its hood crumpled against the trunk of a large tree.

_Oh no._

A car was coming down the road, casting the beams of its headlights upon them, but it only slowed as it neared them before speeding off even faster than before. No one was going to help them…

"This island is overdue for some pest control, wouldn't you say?" growled the voice above Alan.

"Oh yeah, they won't be missed," said the other man, glaring down at George. Without pause, he pulled out a gun and pointed it at George's head. From behind Alan's own head came a sound that Alan had seen enough crime shows on TV to recognize -a gun being cocked. The foot on his back crushed him even harder against the ground…

Nooooo! Panic and terror tore through his mind. _He didn't want to die! He didn't want George to die! _He was gasping, nearly sobbing, trying to get out a scream for mercy…

"My Dad is Giuseppe Asakura!" wailed George, as best he could with his face pressed in the dirt.

A new voice, sharp and clear, pierced the twilight.

"Wait! Get them up!"

Abruptly, the two men yanked Alan and George to their feet, keeping tight grips on the backs of their shirts. At last, Alan could breathe properly, though he still felt dazed and his head throbbed…

The voice belonged to a woman, a very tall and slender woman who was dressed in the kind of clothes that Alan had only ever seen in magazines or movies. She was blond, and wore a pillbox hat with a dark veil that obscured the upper part of her face from view but her visible mouth was shiny pink and somehow… predatory. Despite what she had just prevented, Alan felt a new rush of fear seize him.

But the woman ignored Alan completely and began walking closer to George and his captor. Out came a white hand, with long fingers capped by blood-red nails; she grabbed George's chin and pulled his face upward. Not even George could meet her gaze; he looked away, trembling.

"Yes," she said coldly, still staring at George, "This one really is his son." She released his chin, and George now could only look blankly down at his feet. As Alan continued to stare, her lips shaped a speculative smirk. "I must say, little Asakura, you've got a lot of spunk, trying to steal _my_ car. I think you might prove very useful… in ten years perhaps." George raised his head then and looked straight at her. She nodded her head ever so slightly, but then she turned and walked away, back to the black limousine in the distance that awaited her. As she neared it, and the driver was coming around to open her door for her, she paused and glanced back.

"Of course, these boys still ought to be punished for what they've done."

She entered the limousine and disappeared from view as its door closed.

Alan's captor, still clutching the back of his shirt, spun Alan around to face him and raised a fist. Alan froze, even as he heard a cry of fear slip from his mouth.

"No!" yelled George thrashing and squirming in his captor's grip, "It was me! This was all my idea! Punish me twice, but not him!"

Whack! George tried, and failed, to suppress a cry of pain. The other man had yanked him around and backhanded him in the mouth. George's lip was split, and blood was running down his chin.

Whack!

"_Ahhh!"_ He'd hit George again, and now blood ran from his nose too, but he also released him. George dropped to his knees, shaking, but glared at the man as he pulled his shirt up and tried to wipe the blood from his face. It was done.

"_My friend_," thought Alan, "_He really is my friend. My only friend_…" In that moment, Alan knew he would follow George anywhere, even to Hell itself. Alan's captor let go of his shirt and-

Pain exploded through Alan's body. He'd just been punched right in the stomach and brutally hard. He fell to the ground, gasping and retching, trying so hard not to sob, but he heard George's anguished cry of protest and the reply it received.

"This is BC Island, kid. Don't even try to be honorable here–that won't get you anywhere."

Together the two men stalked off into the looming darkness, heading back towards the Club and leaving the two boys behind, bleeding in the dirt. Alan was lying curled on his side and still trembling, but now George was at his side, sniffling and still wiping his red-smeared face with his shirt. It was some time before Alan was able to get up and endure the long walk back to the town, but George never left his side and kept whispering that he was sorry, over and over.

In the days that followed, the cuts and bruises healed and things gradually returned to normal as the terror of that evening faded in Alan's mind. Soon he and George were meeting every day at their hide out and getting into mischief again throughout the town, fighting, stealing, and even setting small fires. But in the weeks that followed, Alan slowly learned that something had changed –his friend. George's boisterous self-confidence could be subdued by moments of uncertainty now and anger was often visible, simmering, in the depths of his angular eyes, pulling his brows into a brooding frown.

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And one day, while he was sprawled in one of the hammocks at the hide out, waiting for George, he realized that it had been almost a year since they'd first met. What a year it had been… Alan had barely set foot in a classroom, but he sure felt like he'd received an education nevertheless. And he had a friend now –a _real_ friend- and he would never have to be an outcast again. Nope, he was going to stick with George, and together, they were going to go places! Alan had never been off BC Island, but he was sure that George had some grand destiny awaiting him that he could share in. Daydreaming about the future kept him occupied for a while, but now he was going to the door and peering outside, and sighing impatiently.

Where the heck was George?

In the days that followed, he continued to go to the hideout every day, but still no George. But, he'd often mentioned trips he'd taken with his parents in the past. Maybe George was visiting some far, exotic country right now.

But now a week had passed. Alan had spent yet another day at the hide out, all alone, and now there was nothing to do but go home to the apartment. But his mother was there and she was even awake, though the TV was turned off. She was sitting on the small couch, knees pulled to her chest, and sipping tea, of all things. She never did that –was there _nothing_ normal about this day?

Was she sick?

No, it turned out that she wasn't sick, but she was depressed about something.

"I don't know why I stay in this place," she was saying, more to herself than to him, "I only came here because your father wanted to, and now he's…" She lapsed into gloomy silence. Alan was poking around in the cupboard, looking for something to eat, when she started talking again.

"There was a family staying at the resort. They arrived last week and the next day, they wouldn't leave their villa. I kept coming around to check if they were out, so I could clean and change the sheets and towels, but they wouldn't even open the door. But later they were found dead –murdered- on the beach right out in front. The guy and his wife had been shot, and their son… I guess he wasn't quite dead -one of the waiters said that some doctor took him to the hospital. But ever since, everyone's acting like nothing happened! No one called the police that day, no one seems to care that people were killed! Goddamned BC Island! Everyone just mutters in little clusters, saying the guy must have pissed off the wrong person and got what was coming to him!"

Alan had been listening without really listening to his mother as she rambled on. After that terrible night, weeks ago, he knew full well what BC Island was really like. Mostly he was wondering what wild tales George would be telling him soon, about wherever he'd been all week…

"People keep whispering 'Asakura.' Ever heard of anyone with that name, Alan?"

He could never recall, later, how long he stood there, how long it took for him to grasp everything his mother was saying. He could remember, though, running frantically down the stairs as she called out after him, running all the way to the hospital.

_George… He needed to know that his friend was okay!_

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Even in the midst of his panic, Alan knew that no one was going to allow a kid like him into the hospital alone at this hour of the night. But sneaking into places he wasn't supposed to be in was one of his few talents. He had to dart into some closets and crouch under some sheet-draped gurneys, but he knew he could find George eventually.

A man with glasses and a moustache, wearing a doctor's white coat, had emerged from a patient's room and was talking to a nurse when Alan peered around the corner of a hallway. There was no one else in sight.

"I really thought he might make it, but then he took a sudden turn for the worse. Time of death was 10.45 PM, but there's no need to trouble another doctor at this late hour. Bring all the necessary paperwork to me; I'll handle everything." He had an accent –he wasn't from anywhere around here.

"That's kind of you. The name was Asakura, Doctor? I'll have someone bring you the admission file and the necessary forms," replied the nurse as she walked away.

Alan was finding it very hard to breathe, as if he'd been once again punched in the stomach, and his eyes were stinging with imminent tears but he had to know for certain; he had to emerge from behind the corner and run towards the doctor, calling out for his friend George. The doctor wouldn't let him into the room, and held onto him as Alan kicked and struggled, and cried…

"It's best if you don't see him now. Remember him as he was when you saw him last; that's the best way to remember someone."

The strange doctor somehow had a gentle voice and his grip on Alan's arms, though firm, wasn't unkind. Alan stopped thrashing. He didn't know what to do now or what he would ever do anymore. He was trembling, weeping, but the doctor kept his hands on Alan's shoulders and kept talking.

"Go home now. Go home to your family, but remember this: the heart of this island is rotten. There's an organization here, and not many know its true name but I'm going to tell it to you now. Its name is Galactor. Some day, they will come to you and demand that you serve them, as so many here do already. If and when that day comes, remember who killed George Asakura. Always remember that it was Galactor who killed your friend and make the right choice, even if it's the hardest choice."

_It couldn't be true, it just couldn't… Not George!_

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	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2:**

**She was still speeding towards the Condor. He was sitting on the hood of his car, aglow in the rays of the setting sun and she could see the shuriken in his teeth. He was waiting for her…**

**In that moment, she finally saw everything clearly. She finally understood.**

**She knew what her decision had to be.**

_**Alan…**_

_Nine years ago:_

It was beautiful. She'd been fully prepared to hate it and to cling to her cherished memories of the New Jork brownstone that had been the only home she'd ever known. But now she gazed all about at the spacious rooms, the high arched doorways and windows, the inlaid tile floors, the oriental rugs faded to creamy richness, and the smooth, dark wood beams and doors. She could sense that this was no mere house; it was imbued with an epic history, offering to whisper stories to one who was willing and able to listen. Far across the room, she could see her reflection in a massive mirror with a burnished baroque frame, and she felt very small, but she was impressed. She walked over to a window; it overlooked an expanse of pale, marble terrace shaded by a pergola of grape vines and bougainvillea and beyond it was the clear, shimmering blue of a swimming pool surrounded by lemon groves. Further beyond was a stretch of sand and then the deeper blue of the tranquil sea where the setting sun made a spill of gold. Yes, she was definitely impressed, but she wasn't sure if she was going to admit that.

Her mother was in another room, speaking with a woman who'd arrived mere minutes after them but she was only dimly aware of their words; she was good at tuning her mother her out. The other woman's voice was more piercing.

"We reward those who serve us well. Consider this yours, for a job well done."

The girl was walking slowly up the large, curved staircase now, trailing her fingers over the intricately carved wood railing. She wondered what her two brothers would think of this place and she wished they could be here too. But they were so much older than her and they'd accompanied their father on some business he had in Hontwohl. Until that was finished, she was stuck here alone with her mother.

"I can't quite be everywhere at once. When I learned we had a rat here on BC Island, about to betray us and defect to the ISO, I thought of you. I knew you'd investigate and deal with it quickly and effectively –and indeed you did; his fate will stand as an abject lesson. However, I never thought the rat would turn out to be Asakura…"

The girl had no idea what the woman was taking about and as she'd reached the top of the stairs now, she left the woman's voice behind and moved off down a wide hallway, peering into rooms until she found one that had in it the few crates that held her possessions. This, then, was to be her bedroom. It had its own adjoining bathroom and French doors that opened onto a balcony that faced the sea. Even now the late summer sun, like a glowing jewel, was casting warm, enfolding light through the doors' glass. In New Jork she'd had to share a bathroom with her brothers and her bedroom's small window had faced the brick wall of the neighboring house.

For the first time in many days, the tightness in her chest disappeared and she realized that maybe this was all going to be okay. She wasn't going to cry, she wasn't going to pine for New Jork. No, she was living like a princess in a fairy tale now and this island was a magical kingdom waiting for her to discover its secrets.

Now she was eager to open up the crates and begin filling the empty bookcase with her own books and toys. As she was kneeling on the floor, doing just that, she spotted something poking out slightly from behind the bookcase. It turned out to be a photo that had probably been on top of the bookcase and had somehow fallen down behind it. It was of a boy, about her age, and she stared at it. He had unusual eyes, with a sharp and intense look that belied his young face. Had he lived here? His eyes suggested he could have told her about what this house and this island had to offer, because he'd already experienced it all.

Who was he? Where was he now? The back of the photo was blank.

He could have been her friend and guide, like her brothers were, but one who was her own age and who better shared her interests. She'd always wanted a best friend who was a boy; somehow she could never trust other girls. Her mother was probably to blame for that.

Her mother and that other woman were coming up the stairs now, but she continued to gaze thoughtfully at the photo.

"I want you to take charge here in my absence and expand the ranks with new girls. There are daughters here who are the right age, and others will be sent here. They must be enlisted to serve, and I think you'll be the right person to train them."

"You honor me, my lady," said her mother, sounding meek. That was sufficiently unusual to get her attention, and she realized that her mother and the other woman were now walking down the hallway towards her room. She stood hastily, sticking the photo inside a book, and went to shut her door.

It was too late. The woman was at her door, looking in, and she was caught in her scrutinizing stare. She was tall and slender, with large eyes and shiny lips, long blonde hair and clothes redolent with sinister glamour. This woman exuded power and confidence, with the menacing aura of a cat intent upon its prey, and she found herself unable to move or speak.

"Ah, you've got one of your own, I see," said the woman, addressing her mother who was standing behind her, as she lounged against the door frame. Her mother was also looking into the room and fixing her with the familiar glare that promised trouble if she didn't perform exactly right. Normally, it would have made her tense and jumpy, but now it paled in comparison.

"This is Alicia," her mother was saying, "She's not quite ten years old, so it will be years before she's of any use."

Alicia thought frantically and then bowed her head to the woman deferentially, saying "I'm honored to meet you, my lady," hoping that these were the correct gestures.

It seemed that they were.

"She looks like promising material," the woman said, "I'm sure you'll see to it that she turns out well."

"She's too often sullen and willful," said her mother, "But I'll stamp that out of her yet."

The woman moved back into the hallway now, clearly done with Alicia, and her mother turned to follow her.

"Willful, you say? You will keep in mind that we want some who can command, not just minions. A little spunk can be a good thing," said the woman, her voice fading as she moved along the hallway.

"Yes, of course, my lady," she heard her mother reply hastily.

Once they were gone, Alicia took a deep breath and let herself relax.

_What was that all about?_

She didn't know, but she had to admit that as disturbing as that woman was, she'd enjoyed seeing someone who could bring her mother to heel.

Maybe power was good thing. She wouldn't know; she'd never had any.

0000000000

She loved the beach behind the house, especially at night when the darkness lent it both mystery and privacy. It was easy to slip out of the house after dark and come down here without anyone noticing. Now she'd taken off her sandals and she was wading through the water that lapped against the sand that was still warm from the day's sun. If she were still in New Jork, she thought, it would be colder and probably raining right now. Here, her mother didn't force her to wear dresses and she could stay in shorts and t-shirts every day, swim in the pool or in the sea, climb trees, and dig sand castles on the beach.

Yet while she still felt as if she were living in a paradise, she was getting… restless. Her brothers, much to her disappointment, still spent most of their time in Hontwohl, as did her father. Her mother… Well, she was around too much, but at least she was too occupied to concern herself with anything Alicia was doing. Many days, it seemed that the only people that Alicia spoke with were the housekeeper and her tutor, who arrived dutifully every weekday morning to put Alicia through her lessons. She would have liked to attend a local school, but her mother had decided against it.

She started running down the beach, for no other reason than the desire to move, and as fast as possible.

In the near darkness, the boy seemingly came out of nowhere and she narrowly avoided colliding with him. It was hard to say who was more startled, him or her.

"Who are you?" he demanded, causing her to frown. Shouldn't she be the one who got to ask that question?

"I live here," she declared, "Do you?" She was peering at him closely, trying to make out his face, but he was all shadows.

"No," he said, after a pause, "I live in the town." But then he held out his hand to her.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Al."

She laughed then, and shook his hand with her own.

"Hi, Al. I'm an Al too." And she was -that was what her brothers called her.

"What are you doing here?" she added, but in a friendly way. She was excited to have finally met someone her age, and a boy to boot. She didn't want him to leave.

"Oh, I just come here sometimes," he shrugged, turning to look out at the sea.

She wished she could see his face better.

"I haven't lived here very long," she said, trying to think of a way to make conversation, "You live in the town? Do you go to school there?"

"I don't go to school anymore," he said, "There's a pastor at a church, Father Carlo –he's teaching me."

"Yeah, I have a tutor too." This was good, she thought. Maybe he was as lonely as she was. "How far is it to the town from here, anyway?"

He turned to look at her again, but he was silent for a moment.

"Let me guess, you want to see the town…" he murmured, almost to himself.

"Well, sure!" she said, "I mean, it's got to be more fun than hanging around here every day."

"I guess," he said, but then he asked "Why were you running?"

It was her turn to shrug.

"I just like to be fast," she replied, "I bet I'm faster than you," she added, tauntingly.

He snorted. "I bet you're not!"

So an impromptu race ensued, demonstrating that she indeed was faster.

"No fair," he gasped, "I'm wearing sneakers and you're barefoot." As if that would make any difference!

"So take them off, then, dummy! Come on, let's run in the waves –that's more fun."

And it was. She couldn't deny that she was the one who splashed him first, but he responded by giving her a shove that toppled her over in knee-deep water. She ought to have been angry but she was laughing too hard. That didn't stop her from grabbing his foot, though, and pulling him off balance.

Heck, they were both wet now –might as well see who could swim faster too.

"You're pretty cool," he said later, as they made their way back to shore, "For a girl, that is."

It was dark, she reminded herself; he wouldn't see her grinning.

"Yeah, you're okay too."

"If you really want to see the town, come here tomorrow around noon. I'll show you the fastest way to get there from here."

"You're on!"

0000000000

At last, here was some hustle and bustle and something approximating a crowd –things she now realized she'd actually been missing. She supposed she must truly be a New Jork girl at heart. Al had shown her all around the docks and the fishing boats, and now they were in the town's market and she was gazing eagerly at all the people coming and going and all the wares on display.

Al reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a crumpled bill. Waving it in the air, he approached a fruit vendor's stall and she followed behind him. Today, on the beach behind her house, she'd gotten her first look at him in the light of day. He hadn't turned out to be the boy from the photograph, as she'd rather been hoping, but she liked his face well enough too. His hair was a bit more reddish, and his eyes were gentler.

"What's with the waving?" she hissed. Was this some weird local custom?

"So he knows I'm not going to steal," muttered Al, who then proceeded to purchase two pears and he handed one to her.

"Steal?" she asked, accepting the pear gratefully and taking a bite.

"Yeah," smiled Al ruefully, "I've got a bad rep around here."

"You do?" She wasn't sure what she thought of that.

"I've changed my ways, though," he added, "But they don't trust me yet."

She looked at him speculatively; she wasn't really impressed, but she couldn't deny that there was something interesting about a criminal past.

"Al, why did you-"

"Come on," he said, cutting her off, "I'll show where I hang out."

He led her to a part of town where the buildings got shabbier.

"That's where the pastor who teaches me lives," said Al, pointing to an old church. The paint on its sign was faded but she could make out the word "Waldensian." But Al kept on walking, and soon they reached a small, rundown warehouse.

Inside one room were two hammocks, a punching bag and a dart board and the walls featured pictures of sports cars torn from magazines and the word "Condors" spelled out messily with red paint. They spent the rest of the afternoon there. He laughed at her first attempts to hit the punching bag and then proceeded to teach her better technique, but she wiped the smirk off his face when it came to playing darts.

"Hey, you're good! Even better, maybe, than…"

"My mother taught me." It was, in fact, the only game her mother had ever played with her and she'd insisted that Alicia excel at it, as she herself did.

Later, lying in the hammocks, they were reading comic books but when she glanced over at Al, he seemed to be staring at the ceiling, lost in memories.

The photo of the boy, finding Al on the beach behind her house, and the two hammocks here…

"Was there a boy living where I live now?" she asked, "I mean, before I moved in?"

He closed his eyes, but not before she saw the pain.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "He was my friend, George Asakura."

Something about that name… But she couldn't place it.

"What happened to-"

"He's gone! That's all you need to know!" said Al, his voice now hard.

"Isn't it about time you headed home?" he added abruptly.

It was, actually, and she knew a hint when she heard one. But she'd just asked a simple question –did he have to bite her head off?

She clambered out of the hammock in silence and moved for the door, but now he followed her.

"Hey, Al, you can come back here tomorrow if you want," he said, staring at his feet, but she knew an apology when she heard one too.

"I'll be here, Al."

Walking away from the warehouse, she glanced back, and he was still standing in the doorway, watching her.

"And thanks for the pear!" she called out, waving her arm.

She could see that he was laughing now, even if she was too far away to hear it.

0000000000

As soon as she'd seen the cake, she'd known that something was_ really_ up. Her mother had never made a fuss about any of her previous birthdays. What was so special about turning fourteen that it had demanded a big, fancy cake, having to wear a dress and dinner in the formal dining room?

Well, she had her answer now.

After the cake had been served, her parents and her brothers had explained; she was old enough now to start training to serve the cause –a secret organization that they all belonged to and that she must now join too.

"You'll start with martial arts and weapons training," her mother had said.

"We're counting on you, Alicia, to do your best and help our family succeed here," her father had said.

"It's great, Al –you wait and see! You'll have power and no one will mess with you –_ever_," her older brothers had said.

"You may have spent the last four years here gadding about, Alicia, but the time's come now for you to _work_. The training is rigorous, and there'll no tolerance for shirking –especially not from _you_," her mother had said.

Sitting on her bed now, with knees pulled to her chest, Alicia sighed as she tried to absorb the fact that her life was about to change dramatically.

Well, maybe it would be okay, she tried to tell herself. Martial arts and weapons training actually sounded interesting.

Devil Star… that's what her mother said she'd become. She had to admit, it was a cool name. "The organization's secret female elite," her mother had said, "People _fear_ us and obey us, even if they don't know exactly who we are… yet."

If only her mother weren't the head instructor…

And did she want to be feared and obeyed? She honestly wasn't sure, but she knew one thing for certain: she wanted to excel as a Devil Star, join her brothers in their travels around the world and squelch once and for all that look of contempt and dissatisfaction that ever lurked in her mother's eyes when she gazed at her daughter.

_But Al… What about Al?_

She couldn't tell him; if her parents and brothers had been adamant about one thing above all else, it was that the organization's secrets were more valuable than any of their lives. She could never tell Alan, her best and only friend, what she would really be doing. It could get her killed; it could get him killed.

"This is _serious_," her brothers had said, "This is no game."

She wasn't going to be able to spend as much time with Alan anymore, hanging out around the warehouse or on the beach at night. That, she realized, was the only thing that really hurt from this night's revelations.

Just that afternoon, when she'd arrived at their "hide out," he'd presented her with a cupcake with smudged frosting and a lone little candle stuck in it, but it had tasted far better to her than the cake she'd eaten tonight.

Somehow, she vowed, she'd still find time for her friend.

She was looking at her bookcase now; there were toys, stuffed animals and books on it that she hadn't touched in ages. They were things for a kid, not for a Devil Star-in-training. Sighing again, she got up and took a box from her closet and began packing away her childhood.

The photograph fell out from between the pages of a book of fairy tales. She'd hardly remembered it and hadn't looked at it in years, but she picked it up now and studied the boy's face with the eyes that were so intense, even brooding.

_Where are you now? Are you in the organization too, are you in… Galactor?_

Her brothers had told her that word, its true name, after extracting from her a solemn vow that she'd never speak it aloud to anyone.

Alan had never told her anything about the fate of his lost friend. Maybe he didn't know where he'd gone; it was clear to her now that they lived on an island where too many secrets had to be kept, even from best friends.

0000000000

Speed was addictive, she realized, as she drove into the town and had to force herself to drive slower and to stop at intersections. She'd spent the last few months in the Luman Kingdom taking driving lessons at a very private track, in some very unusual vehicles, and even though she'd been back on BC Island for a few days, she still needed to remind herself to at least pretend to observe its traffic laws. But in a brand new sports car, that was _hard_.

She was more than two years into her training now, along with a dozen other girls from all over the world. She was training in various fighting styles and learning how to shoot, swing or throw numerous kinds of weapons, but despite her most exhausting efforts and her mother's most ruthless scorn, she'd never quite been the best in her class yet at anything except the use of the rose darts.

That is, until they had started driving lessons. More than just "driving," really –the vehicles could also _fly_!

The mysterious Onna Taicho, the woman who'd terrified her at age nine -and honestly, still did at age sixteen- had shown up one day without notice to evaluate their progress and she'd been so pleased with Alicia's burgeoning skills, she'd given her this Maserati GranTurismo to use. _That_ had shut her mother up, all right! Well, for one day, at least. Then her mother had arranged transport for all the cadets to return to BC Island and had left the Luman Kingdom with Onna Taicho on some kind of special assignment.

But Onna Taicho had told Alicia, "You can take the car home with you."

_You just wait, Mother. Some day, you'll see…_

She was on her way now to find Alan. She and the other cadets had been given some time off due to her mother's absence and she couldn't wait to show him her new car and to hang out this evening at the beach or even at the old warehouse. It would be just like old times, when life was freer and easier. She had hardly seen him at all in the past year. She was busy with her training so much of the time and had to pass it off to him vaguely as "family obligations." She hated doing that; he never said anything but she could tell that he thought she was just brushing him off. But she couldn't tell him the truth. Besides, he'd always seemed to be at that church, helping that pastor teach classes to young kids or some such thing, so it wasn't all her fault that they hadn't spent much time together.

She turned a corner, and now she could see a cluster of young guys on the side of the street up ahead. One guy, from what she could see, was surrounded by a bunch of others and they were jeering at him and taking turns reaching out to smack him and shove him around. Without even realizing she was doing it, her mind was calculating the exact sequence of fight moves she would use, if it were her, against them…

Wait a minute, though -this guy wasn't even attempting to fight back. He just stood there, head bowed and fists clenched at his sides, taking it. What was _wrong_ with him? They were obviously just a bunch of worthless goons who could be dealt with in mere seconds.

It pissed her off. She drove closer, giving herself a quick look-over. She was wearing her sleek one-piece Devil Star cadet catsuit, bright red with a yellow four-point star over one breast and pants that flared below the knee, plus dark sunglasses.

The idiots didn't even notice her until she slammed her car's door. But then they all turned her way and gaped. On BC Island, even idiots, it seemed, could recognize someone who _mattered_.

"Is there a problem here?" she drawled coldly.

Their victim raised his head abruptly then too.

_Bloody hell, it was Alan!_

Now she was _really_ pissed off.

"Get the hell away from him!" she barked, "All of you!"

And damned if they didn't all do exactly that!

_Power…_

She couldn't help but grin as they all went scuttling away.

"Hi, Al."

"_Al?"_ he gasped, "Is that really you?"

She took off the sunglasses, still smiling. She was dying to know what this whole effed up situation had been about but she knew that they should get away from here. All her lessons in tactics and strategy had taught her that startled enemies will flee but then regroup and return in greater strength. She shouldn't push her luck.

"Hey, get in the car with me," she said, "Where do you want to go?"

He wanted to go to the church.

0000000000

It didn't take long to get there. Speed limits be damned -and really, no cop in this town would ticket _her_.

He didn't say a word about her car or her clothes –or about anything. When they got to the church, though, she didn't wait for Al to issue any invitation; she just walked right beside him all the way up the long, wide steps to the church and around to the back, and when he unlocked a door there and went in, she was right on his heels.

She found herself in an area of the church that was clearly the Pastor's residence –a spartan room with a kitchenette, a bed and a lot of bookshelves- but there was no one there except Alan and herself. While she stayed near the door and looked all around, Alan lit a burner on the stove and put a kettle on to boil. There were shoes beside the bed that looked like his, and she recognized the radio that he used to keep at the "hide out."

"Is the Pastor here?" she asked.

"No," said Alan, with his back to her as he fished a canister of tea bags from a cupboard, "He's in the hospital."

"Oh." She'd barely ever met the man, but she knew he was important to Al. "I'm sorry. Is it serious?"

Now he glanced at her. "He has cancer, Al." He turned away again, taking mugs from another cupboard. "His doctor thinks he only has maybe a year left -do you consider that serious?"

Damn. She'd had no idea… Some friend she was.

"I was just coming back from visiting him now, when…"

He looked down at his white shirt, marred with smudges –smudges from being shoved against a wall by many grubby hands, no doubt.

This must be why he hadn't been fighting back against those creeps, she thought.

"Oh, that must be… sad." She wasn't sure what else to say, as she realized just how distant she'd become from her one true friend, and probably when he'd needed a friend the most too.

He stalked over to a wardrobe near the bed and took a t-shirt from it.

He's living here now, she thought, brooding to herself. He's all on his own, alone, and all these months I've been away-

Her thoughts stalled. Al was taking his shirt off.

All the time they'd spent at the beach in the past, she'd seen him a million times without a shirt, but here and now…

He was still skinny, but his shoulders were broader now and he seemed to have a lot of lean muscles that she didn't remember being there before, on his arms and his torso. Now that she was really looking, she realized his cheekbones were also more sharply defined, and his chin more square…

Al whipped his head in her direction, catching her staring right at him, as the kettle on the stove began to make a piercing whistle and emit a stream of steam. As he moved quickly to take the kettle off the burner, she startled guiltily, realizing that she was just standing there like a dope. But he was looking at her now, and damn it –her face felt warm. Was she actually _blushing?_

He was Al, her _friend._ They were supposed to be best friends. As he poured the water into the mugs, she cast about for something to say.

"Those guys who were after you tonight, what did they want? I'm guessing not your wallet, but-"

"They're trying to recruit me," he said, going over to the bed and pulling the t-shirt over his head.

"Well, bloody hell, Al –okay, you were depressed, coming from the hospital and… everything, but they were just a bunch of street gang thugs. Why didn't you kick their asses? I know that you could have!"

He turned around to face her again.

"These thugs are a little more _organized_ than that. They've been trying to recruit me for months now, and they're not used to getting 'no' for an answer but I will never join _them_!"

"This has been going on for _months?_ Damn it, Al, if you beat the crap out them, they'll accept that as a 'no'! What on earth are you thinking, letting them shove you around like that? Doesn't it make you angry?"

"Of course it does!"

"Then what's the problem? _Since when are you a coward?_"

The look on his face… She'd known the instant the words left her lips that she'd chosen them badly.

"_Is that what you think?_ Sure, I could have fought them off today –that would have been easy! Damned easy!"

He was practically yelling at her.

"But let me tell you, Al," he went on, "I've seen how it all ends! People die! Vengeance only breeds more vengeance, and I refuse to be part of it! If I fight them, then I'm no better than they are -don't you get that? I'm trying to show the kids who come to the church, the ones I'm teaching, that there's another way besides violence and that if enough of us follow it, we might actually change things around here!"

He was glaring at her, and she was almost shaking. He doesn't know, she assured herself. He hasn't asked about my uniform; he doesn't know about my family or the Devil Stars or… Galactor. She was training to fight, yes, but that was for her family. She had never really hurt anyone, and she didn't want to hurt anyone –just to be loyal to her family –above all, her brothers- and to be able to protect the people she cared about!

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she said quietly, "I know you're not a coward." Damn it, tears were stinging her eyes now. "I wish things could just be like they used to be… You're still my only friend, Al, and I've really missed you."

The anger was gone from his eyes now; he just looked sad, but he also looked like he understood.

"It's okay," he said, "I've missed you too, and I shouldn't be yelling at you now. Things aren't easy for you either –I know that."

Actually, he really didn't know what her life was like now, and she couldn't tell him. But, they could sit side by side on the bed, not talking, while they drank the tea he'd made. His shoulder was just a convenient place to rest her head, but she felt a warm rush within when he then put his arm around her. Yet it also felt so normal, as if they'd always been doing this…

"I won't let us grow apart again," she whispered, as much to herself as to him.

"I'm trying to fill in for Father Carlo, so I'm here at the church nearly all the time now. Stop by, whenever you can."

"I'll find the time." And she meant it.

0000000000

"Faster!" snapped her mother, "All of you!" as she walked down a line of Devil Star cadets who were all performing a series of punches and front snap kicks. "Imagine you're up against a Science Ninja! You all have to be lethal!"

A Science Ninja, thought Alicia, trying to increase the speed of her blows against an imaginary opponent, trying not to give her mother any excuse to single her out for criticism. But she was trying so desperately _not_ to think, _not_ to feel. She wanted to be a mindless, kicking and punching automaton -not a worried eighteen year old. The Science Ninjas were a new force and still shrouded in mystery, but the newspapers were reporting enough details of their activities for Alicia to know one thing about them: they were lauded as heroes and Galactor, the side that she belonged to… was not. The secret organization was no longer so secret, and neither were its goals or its methods. She'd seen the news footage of Galactor mechas destroying cities and killing hundreds, maybe thousands, of ordinary people.

Galactor was organized on a global scale, with a complex hierarchy and vast personnel. Capable of continuous mecha production, its machines were on the cutting edge of science and technology.

Sure, her family said lofty things about the need to bring order to a chaotic world, in order to save it. Sure, the other cadets all talked about how they would defeat the spineless and inept International Science Organization's Ninjas, and even used images of them for target practice.

But it all just made Alicia feel queasy inside whenever she let herself think about it. She couldn't help but feel that those gleaming, high-tech mechas that pillaged the planet's resources, destroyed whole cities, and sowed fear the world over were, in the end, no different from the street thugs in BC Island who beat people up to take their money instead of trying to earn their own.

She thought of Alan. So many nights she would go over to the church to see him and he'd make her tea and they would just sit together, and he would tell her about his work at the church and the children he was helping. Alan and his noble ideals… She knew exactly what he would think of what she was really doing, if she were able and willing to tell him.

But what if he was a foolish dreamer, thinking that he could just opt out of the whole struggle? What if the world truly was just two opposing sides, with one really no better than the other, and all that a person could do to survive was join the one that looked most likely to win? The fact that she was willing to fight for the good of her father and brothers, for the people that mattered to her –that didn't make her evil; that made her smart. She wanted to be powerful, not weak! In control, not a victim! In this world, you could only be one or the other.

Right?

Now her mother was dividing the cadets into pairs, to spar against each other. It figured her mother would pair her off with Dina, the one cadet who managed to do nearly everything a little better than Alicia –and especially, it seemed, whenever her mother was watching.

Not today, vowed Alicia silently, not today…

They were up first. In the first minutes, fists and feet flew everywhere, but every time, they deadlocked, and when her mother called "break," she and the other two cadets serving as line judges called no points. But her mother didn't call "time", so they kept at it, circling, probing for weakness, lashing out in repeated attempts to make contact with fist or foot and to score the coveted points. But neither was succeeding. Alicia's mind was awhirl, trying to think ahead, trying to guess what Dina would try next and how she could turn it against her. Patterns were emerging, though. Three times so far, Dina had followed _that_ style of kick with _that_ particular punch. Soon, she'd do it again, and that would be her chance; she just had to-

_Aughh!_

Dina's foot plowed into her ribs, hurling her backwards as pain blossomed across her chest. Somehow –she had no idea how- she barely managed to keep her footing and to stay in bounds, but she could hardly breathe.

That was goddamned excessive contact –against the rules! Any second now, a penalty would be declared against Dina, and Alicia would receive a point –and the pain, the probable cracked ribs, would all be worth it. Still gasping, she stood, head bowed, waiting…

"Point Dina," said her mother.

_What the hell?_

Neither of the girls serving as line judges said a word to dispute her, the craven bitches! She snapped her head up, to find herself looking straight at Dina's smirking face as her mother stepped back and called "fight." It wasn't over yet…

Sound faded from her ears; her vision shrank to nothing but her opponent and her mind jettisoned everything but rage.

_She hated her mother, she hated her mother…_

She fought like she'd never fought before; she would never recall exactly what moves she'd used –only the pleasure she took in finally slamming her foot into the side of Dina's head. But then she kicked her in the stomach too… and _hard_.

Had someone called "break"? She didn't care. She'd show her! She'd show her mother who the top cadet was! She was coming around with a roundhouse kick.

She would _finish_ this.

But Dina was gasping now, clutching her stomach, and her eyes were filled with tears –tears of fear.

Abruptly, Alicia wrenched her leg aside at the last second, her toes nearly grazing Dina's face. She couldn't do it. She could only stand there in horror as she realized what she'd done and what she'd been about to do… She'd been vicious, filled with the desire to hurt and to dominate.

But she had won. Not even her mother could claim she hadn't won! She was feeling dizzy and staring at Dina was making her feel sick now. This was the time to walk away from Dina and stop witnessing the tears of humiliation that now ran down her face. That would be the honorable thing to do. She bowed and turned, walking away, refusing to look at anyone else.

She'd taken maybe five steps, when it happened –a smashing blow to the base of her head. _So much pain_… She fell to the floor, barely holding onto consciousness, but as she rolled on to her side, Dina was standing right there, still gasping but smirking through her tears. She tried to get up, tried so hard to get back on her feet, but everything was blurred with pain…

"Point Dina" said her mother, and addressing all the silent, staring cadets she added, "Never show mercy! As of today, the Devil Star cadets have a #1, and it is Dina."

But everything was fading away…

0000000000

"Hello? Al, are you here?"

Alan had given her a key to the Pastor's quarters at the church, but this was the first night she'd ever had to use it. He wasn't here. He could be at the hospice, visiting Father Carlo, she thought, even though it was getting late. He was always so sad and quiet when he returned from such visits; she decided she'd stay and wait for him, and that this time she'd make the tea.

It was the least she could do. He was always there for her, always a comforting shoulder to rest her head upon when the burdens of her life and fate seemed overwhelming. How was it that he seemed to understand, though she hadn't told him… anything?

She was rooting around in a drawer, looking for sugar packets, when she found the page cut from a newspaper –a newspaper from the far-off city of Utoland. That wasn't so odd though –Alan's mother still sometimes brought him papers and magazines left behind by guests at the resort. She glanced at it briefly; it was the sports section and there was a brief article, "A Wunderkind in Utoland's Racing Circuit." That caught her interest and she found herself reading about a promising new driver named Joe Asakura, who was only eighteen years old and apparently an orphan too.

Asakura… Where had she heard that name before?

But suddenly, the door was opening –Alan was back. Hastily she stuck the page back in the drawer and closed it. Alan was rubbing his eyes wearily when he came in, but he smiled when he saw her, even more so when she handed him a cup of his favorite tea.

"Hi, Al."

"Hi, Al."

As ever, they sat on the bed, leaning against wall, but tonight he told her that Father Carlo had only mere days left.

"He's arranged for me to take over running the church here, officially," he whispered, staring up at the ceiling. "I told him that was nuts –I don't have a degree in Divinity or anything. I only know what I've learned here. But he says it's a go, and that I can serve here as a Pastor."

She took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "You're perfect for the job, Al."

"I don't know…"

"I do -everyone here loves you."

He looked at her now, and something in his eyes… changed. "Is that so?" he said softly, with a faint smile of… hope? In that moment she was aware of nothing but his hand touching hers, that look in his eyes and the sudden racing of her heart.

"Yeah," she faltered, looking away hastily. _What was happening here?_

He didn't say anything else, and he let go of her hand. But then he put his arm around her shoulders, and that was… good.

If only that feeling could have stayed with her after she'd gone. That night, in her bedroom, she couldn't sleep. Too many fears about her future were pulling at her mind. Her Devil Star training was nearing completion. Finally, she got out of her bed and wandered to the balcony, staring down at the placid moonlight that shimmered on the pool's surface.

She needed to be… moving –that would help her relax. Minutes later, she was outside swimming laps in the pool, back and forth, over and over, wishing that the water's caress could penetrate her skin and rinse her soul as well.

Asakura…

As she swam, back and forth, over and over, her conscious mind receded and deeper memories emerged...

"_I can't quite be everywhere at once. When I learned we had a rat here on BC Island, about to betray us and defect to the ISO, I thought of you. I knew you'd investigate and deal with it quickly and effectively –and indeed you did; his fate will stand as an abject lesson. However, I never thought the rat would turn out to be Asakura…"_

"_Yeah, he was my friend, George Asakura."_

Asakura…

Oh my God!

She stopped swimming, pulling her head up from the water to stare at the house. She fled the pool as if its water were blood.

It all made sense. Her mother must have killed them, killed the Asakuras, killed a small boy, killed Alan's friend…

She found a towel and pulled it around herself, shivering now as she huddled on a chaise lounge and recalled the page from that Utoland newspaper that Alan was keeping. Joe Asakura… That wasn't quite the right name, but he was about the right age. Could it be that somehow Alan's friend still lived, that somehow one of her mother's victims had survived?

Alan _never_ talked about his lost friend. Should she ask him about him now? Utoland was so very far away from here; Alan could never afford to travel that far. But maybe, someday soon, she herself could…

The morning's sunrise found her standing in the local cemetery, staring at the headstone that read "Sacred to the memory of Giuseppe and Katarina Asakura." Its date was a mere six weeks before she had moved to BC Island, moved into _their_ house, nearly nine years ago.

But some distance away, there was another, much smaller stone for their son George, dated a week later.

What had really happened to Alan's friend? It was a mystery, but one that maybe she could solve.

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	3. Chapter 3

Here it was: her final training session, her final round of sparring practice as a cadet. She whirled about, evading a punch from her opponent –today it was Maria- and using her momentum to come around fast, ready to kick…

She was fast and tough; she could _fight_, and _shoot_ and _drive_. These had to be good skills, useful skills for… something else. _Anything_ but what she would have to use them to do! If only there could be another way for her, another choice. Could she find one? Could she seize the very fabric of the universe and shape it to her will so that the impossible could be possible, that she wouldn't have to lose… anyone?

Her foot smashed into Maria's nose, with a sickening crack, and blood gushed forth. Maria screamed and dropped to her knees, clutching her face with her hands. God damn it! Sure, they sparred "full contact" now but she hadn't meant to do _that_! She'd lost her focus, was distracted by her thoughts –she'd never meant for this to happen!

She tried to find her voice, tried to shape the words "I'm sorry," but time seemed to have slowed to a crawl around her, paralyzing her.

"On your feet, #9!" barked her mother. She glanced briefly at Alicia, but turned her wrath against Maria. "If you can't handle a mere bloody nose, you won't last a day against the Science Ninjas! _Get up_!"

Maria staggered to her feet, sobbing, and stood in a fighting stance, even though she was trembling.

"Now fight!" said her mother, glancing again at Alicia, "And don't you dare go easy on her, #2!"

She folded her arms and stepped back to watch, eyes gleaming. "Clearly #9 here needs some toughening up."

She aimed a blow at Maria, who managed to block it but… she was such a _mess_. She wasn't going to last thirty seconds. Tears and blood streaked her face, dripping crimson stains onto her white gi. Blood from her face was on her hands, and she'd even left a red smear on Alicia's sleeve when she'd blocked her punch. It was horrible.

"_What_ are you waiting for, #2?"

She knew what her mother wanted her to do; crush Maria, brutalize Maria –because Maria was weak. No mercy, ever.

Her mother was a Devil Star. She was one of Galactor's feared and respected female elite. And her mother was a murderer. The Devil Stars were assassins. Alicia herself was destined to become a killer.

_She was going to end up exactly like her mother._

She couldn't bear to look at Maria. She had to get out of here; she had to get out of here now!

She was running for the door, running outside as her mother's angry voice, yelling after her, receded in her wake. Before her loomed the setting sun, dark and soft like a decaying fruit; the air about her seemed fetid. _This island was rotten to its core._ How could she ever have thought it was beautiful?

She kept running, and running. It didn't matter where she was going, as long it was _away_!

But somehow she ended up on the beach behind the house. She finally paused, gasping for breath. The soft sand eased her now-aching feet and the vast sea of water that lay before her called out for her to come lose herself in its absolving waves. She tore off her gi and dojo shoes, leaving only her bra and underwear, and began to run again, slowing as the water deepened around her legs. But someone was calling out to her.

"Al, is that you? What's going on? Are you okay?"

Alan was _here_? But it really was him. She was waist-deep now but as she turned to look back she could see him, obscured by the night but coming to join her in the sea. He pulled her into his arms, nearly crushing her against his chest but his voice was so tender as he murmured her name, over and over.

She had no words; all she could do was cling to him and cry hard wrenching sobs of despair.

She finally managed to speak, her face against his wet shirt. _"I don't want to do it!"_

"I _know_. I know what's going on, with you, with your family. You're all in Galactor –I figured that out, years ago." He was stroking her hair.

He _knew_. Somehow he'd always known, and yet he still held her in his arms… How could this be?

"You don't have to do it, Al. You're better than that, you are so much better than all of them!"

"No, Alan, I…" was all she could say, but he was cradling her face in his hands, so close to his own. She wished she could see him better in the darkness.

"You can be free," he whispered and now she didn't need to try to say anything more or to read his face; he was kissing her. For the first time, he was kissing her, with lips that were salty from her own tears and from the cold sea, but yet so warm and sweet.

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It was official: she was a Devil Star now.

She should have said _something_ -to her mother or to Onna Taicho- something to explain that she wasn't cut out for this, that it would be best for Galactor if she were reassigned. All her instincts told her that asking right now to leave the organization completely would bring her a ton of trouble, but an organization as huge as Galactor had to have some desk jobs, right? She could do that for a while, and try to gradually work her way out of the organization, once everyone had forgotten about her.

But instead she was standing at attention in a row of cadets all dressed in their red catsuits as Onna Taicho stood watching and her mother walked down the row, handing each cadet-no-more an official Devil Star uniform. Each of them received a fur-trimmed jacket with two stars, boots, pants, and a mask and wig to conceal their identities. She'd long believed that the masks, a part of every Galactor soldier's uniform, were intended to make them all look more intimidating or to keep them from being recognized outside of duty. But now she realized what they were really for; to encourage them to commit acts of violence and destruction without being impinged by guilt or conscience. "Alicia" wouldn't be killing anyone; the world would only see "Devil Star #2" as the killer –and that was how she was supposed to feel about it too.

But she wasn't feeling it.

Her mother was in front of her now, glaring at her as if she could read her thoughts from her face. Hastily she looked down at the open box her mother was giving her that contained her uniform. Hers was a turquoise mask with a yellow wig. Her mother moved on to Dina, Devil Star #1, and she received a mask and wig that were the same colors as those of her mother's –chartreuse and blue.

Could her mother have more publicly demonstrated that Alicia was a disappointment to her? But it was mere days ago that she'd fled the training session and run off to the beach, and to Alan…

Her mother had barely spoken to her in the intervening time. No punishment had been exacted against her yet but surely she-

Onna Taicho was speaking now.

"Congratulations. You are all daughters of Galactor, destined to serve, and from this day forward, you are Devil Stars. Bring glory to your families and to Galactor by serving us well and you will reap rewards! Betray us, and you die. It is the law of Galactor."

She was staring right at Alicia as she said this. She felt a surge of panic, and her body stiffened but Onna Taicho swept her eyes down the row and kept speaking.

"I will personally be leading you on your first mission but I will only be taking the five highest ranking Devil Stars here, so that I can evaluate you most closely. Devil Stars one through five, we are going to Utoland and we are leaving at dawn. Do _not_ be late! Until then, you are dismissed."

Utoland… An important city for the ISO.

"Yes, my Lady! You honor us," said Dina, bowing. Hastily Alicia and the other three selected girls did the same. Onna Taicho merely nodded silently in acknowledgement, but before she walked out, she glanced once more at Alicia.

What exactly had her mother told Onna Taicho? It was clear that she was under suspicion. But she had to say… _something_; how the hell was she going to manage this?

She was outside and about to get into her car when a hand grabbed her shoulder, spun her around and shoved her up against her car's door. It was her mother.

"Sullen and willful, as ever!" she hissed, "Don't you dare go and ruin everything for your family!"

"I don't _want_ to ruin anything-"

"_Grow up!_ You're eighteen, Alicia –act like it! It's a kill-or-be-killed world out there and we need Galactor –everything that we have comes from them! _Everything_, from the house we live in to this car you love so much! You have no choice but to be a Devil Star, do you understand? It's your duty!"

Her mother let go of her shoulder, but stayed right up in her face; Alicia could _feel_ and hear her words.

"I'll tell you a story, you stupid little girl. The previous family who lived in our house tried to leave Galactor and thought they'd survive by getting amnesty with the ISO in return for betraying Galactor's secrets. Giuseppe Asakura thought he was so damned smart; he thought he'd covered all his tracks. But I found him and I shot him and his wife, right in front of their son, and then I killed him with a rose bomb and I swear I'll do the same to you too if I'm ordered to! So you'd better go on this mission and be the goddamned best Devil Star that you can be, Alicia!"

Her mother emphasized her words by shoving her against the car one last time. She was too shaken to form any coherent reply but her mother didn't wait for one. She let her go and stalked away.

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"Don't go," said Alan, sitting beside her on his bed. "Wherever it is you're going, don't do it."

"I have to," she whispered, "If I'm not there at dawn, they'll-"

"Then we'll run away, together –we'll do it tonight!"

"What? You-"

"We could still catch the midnight ferry to the mainland. Then we could lay low, use fake names, keep moving…"

They'd both turned to face each other, and now he reached for her hands.

"We could start a new life together, we could… get married." His eyes were eager and frightened; it was a question. He was proposing.

She could see it in her dreams; a happy life with Alan, somewhere far away from BC Island. They wouldn't have much money, or anything, at first but they'd be okay and most of all they'd be together…

But it wouldn't work. They were already suspicious of her; she knew with sickening certainty that if she tried to leave the island tonight they'd kill her, and they might kill Alan too. They would never be able to hide well enough from the organization's wrath.

But she yearned for that dream life with Alan; that was what she wanted! _Why couldn't she be allowed to choose her life for herself? _Rage, fear and grief rose up inside and overwhelmed her. It was all just too much! God damn it, she was crying…

She pulled Alan into an embrace, but she could only whisper "I'm sorry, Alan… I love you –_I do_- but I have to go with them tomorrow. I have no choice –_you have to believe me_…"

"Okay," he said softly, his face touching hers, "But I lost a friend because of them, and I'll be damned if I'm going to lose the woman I love to them too. We'll figure something out… I have faith in you, Alicia; when the time comes, you'll know the right thing to do."

0000000000

The Devil Star ship was fast, but it still needed several hours to get all the way to Utoland. Onna Taicho had brought along half a dozen ordinary Galactor soldiers as well on this mission and they had been assigned the piloting duties, leaving the five Devil Stars free to relax en route –or at least to relax as much as was possible, heading into their first real mission and wearing their full uniforms for the first time.

Her wig itched and her mask was stifling; already she loathed them.

Dina and the others seemed to think that flirting with the soldiers by hanging around them and pretending to be disdainful was the best form of distraction available. But she wandered up to the upper level deck instead, where she could be alone with her thoughts and her memory of the hope and fear in Alan's eyes when she'd kissed him good bye.

He _knew_. He didn't know where she was going, or what the mission entailed but he knew that she was being sent to kill. He loved her, but if she truly became a killer –even against her will- how long would he be able to love her when she returned?

_She didn't want to be a killer but she didn't want to die either!_ What she wanted was to be able to walk away from it all. She wanted to be able to choose her own life; she wanted to be free. She _had_ to find a way to make that possible; there had to be some way…

"We'll be arriving soon," said Onna Taicho, from directly behind her. She jumped, completely startled; the way that woman could move around as silently as a cat was… unnerving. She spun around quickly, bowing respectfully, before straightening to face her scrutinizing stare and her aura of power and confident menace. She would _never_ be comfortable in her presence. Was anybody? As far as she knew, only Berg Katse outranked Onna Taicho. But Alicia had never seen him.

"Is there something on your mind, #2?" she asked.

An invitation to speak… If she could just persuade Onna Taicho; there was the tiniest chance that she might somehow understand. She _had_ to make an attempt to explain.

"My lady… Thinking of what's best for Galactor, I was wondering if, if maybe there a better role for me –I mean, one that I'm… better suited for. I wouldn't-"

Onna Taicho's voice cracked like a whip.

"Do you know what you owe to Galactor? You belong to us! Your very life belongs to us!"

"I, I'm sorry, my lady!" she gasped, feeling herself tremble. But after a pause, during which Alicia only stared down at her feet, Onna Taicho was speaking again, coolly but calmly.

"A life for a life… You may be #2, but you have certain superior abilities. If you can assassinate the ISO's Dr. Nambu, the man who directs the Science Ninja Team, all by yourself this very night, then _perhaps_…"

"My lady?" whispered Alicia. Could she really mean what it seemed she might mean? She looked up into a cold and calculating stare, but there was a hint of a smile on Onna Taicho's shiny pink lips.

"What are you waiting for? Go!"

She ran for her jet car, detached from the main ship and flew on ahead at full speed. The city lights of Utoland shone brightly on the horizon before her.

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She had done it. She'd kept the ISO headquarters under surveillance while avoiding detection, had recognized Dr. Nambu from images obtained from her jet car's computer and had succeeded in following him when he left the headquarters by car. And then she'd attacked and she'd made his car go off the side of a high bridge, followed shortly thereafter by one of her rose bombs. The explosion from beneath the water's surface had been massive –he could never have survived it.

She contacted the main ship and relayed the news of her accomplishment in a voice that felt strangely numb.

She had indeed done it. But it hadn't been easy. Dr. Nambu's chauffer had proven to be a highly skilled driver and had nearly succeeded in evading her. He must have been part of a security detail of some kind. She had only gotten a brief glance at him, but she'd noticed a big number 2 on his shirt.

Another #2… How appropriate, really.

She had paid her dues to Galactor, killing the very man who directed the Science Ninja Team, along with his driver. Now she had a chance for freedom. She had _never_ wanted to kill anyone but now she might never have to endure being ordered to kill anyone ever again. A chance for freedom and a chance to be happy with Alan –surely that was worth the price she'd just paid this night? Right?

Then why were her hands so cold? Why were they shaking as she clutched her jet car's steering controls? Why did she feel like she was going to vomit? Why were tears running down her face, beneath her mask? Why could she hear voices amidst the noise of her engine, voices whispering "Murderer…"?

She was now a killer. Even if she never did it again, the stain was permanent.

She'd been deliberately flying slowly on her way back to the main ship, but now it loomed in front of her at last and it was time for her to face Onna Taicho again, and to find out if…

_Perhaps._

0000000000

She found Onna Taicho, this time on the ship's bridge.

"Devil Star #2, your attempt was a failure!"

Startled by the viciousness in her voice, even the soldiers turned their green, masked faces to stare at Alicia.

"_What? Are you sure?"_ she cried, "I mean, I'm so sorry, my lady! I was so certain…"

"Not certain enough, idiot! Dr. Nambu is still alive. Now get out of my sight while I plan a _successful_ assassination of him!"

Alicia fled. She found the small sleeping bunk that had been assigned to her, crawled into it and pulled the curtains. She lay there, limply, feeling as if her mind were being pulled to pieces by relief and anxiety.

Even though she'd tried her best, she wasn't a murderer after all.

But how was she ever going to be able to leave Galactor now? Had she just ruined her only chance?

Hours later, as the morning sun was a nascent glow on the horizon, they were all summoned to Onna Taicho's presence but she was in a chair with its back facing them and she couldn't see her face to attempt to gauge her mood.

Dina and the others apparently knew that Devil Star #2 was in disgrace, though, and they were all trying not to stand near her.

"As you must have heard," said Onna Taicho, in a voice laden with sarcasm, "We have been gathered to assassinate Dr. Nambu."

Alicia flinched, knowing these words were aimed at her but she decided it would be better to speak, to sound ready to try again, than to stay silent.

"But my lady, he's a difficult target since we don't know the whereabouts of his base and even if we knew that, we don't know what kind of traps it might have," says Alicia.

"All we have to do is lure Nambu out," said Onna Taicho, stroking her hand through her long hair.

"How will we do that?" asked Alicia, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"No need to concern yourself. I've already taken care of that," she replied, now standing up from her chair to face them. "We will destroy both Nambu and the Science Ninja Team."

_The Science Ninjas too?_ She could hear a ripple of excited and nervous murmurs from the other Devil Stars. The Science Ninjas were Galactor's most hated enemy and nearly the only defense of the ISO that Galactor had yet to defeat -Gatchaman, the Condor, the Swan, the Swallow and the Owl. There could be no higher glory within Galactor than to kill the dreaded Science Ninjas.

"Accommodations have been made for you in Utoland City and you will go to that building now. Our attack will take place the day after tomorrow and until then, you will all remain out of sight and go _nowhere_. Now, you're dismissed!"

But Alicia was the last one to leave the room and the only one to hear Onna Taicho's final words.

"If you can assassinate a Science Ninja, #2, then _perhaps_…"

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Their main ship swooped fast and low over Utoland City and paused over a tall building as the five Devil Stars exited the ship from below to land quietly on its roof. Quickly and covertly, they entered it and located the suite of rooms where they had been ordered to remain until the day after tomorrow.

In her current state of mind, remaining shut up here with Dina and the others that long was going to make her insane. She had to get out! She needed to be moving, and fast! If only she had her car…

And then she remembered –there was a race car driver somewhere in Utoland named Joe Asakura.

She claimed to be exhausted. She managed to be alone in one of the rooms long enough to move a couch until it faced a wall closely, as if its occupant desired privacy, to create a plausible human form from pillows and her uniform with her Devil Star wig for its "head" (very handy that her real hair was nearly the same color) and to drape a concealing blanket over it. Finally, she left through the room's window and carefully made her way along the narrow ledge until she found another window that opened into an unoccupied suite of rooms. From there, it was short work to cut through to the hallway (and she made a point of leaving the door unlocked) and take an elevator down to the main floor. She would return before Dina or any of the others realized what she'd done…

She was going to go to this city's race track and see what she could learn about Joe Asakura. But she was wearing the only thing that she had with her besides her Devil Star uniform, her cadet uniform, and it was a bright red catsuit with a yellow, four point star over one breast –far from inconspicuous! But some receptionist at a desk in the lobby had stepped away and left her coat draped over the back of her chair.

If she knew anything, it was that there were far worse sins than stealing a coat, and it was an ugly coat anyway. She went outside, into the fresh, morning air.

Now, to hail a taxi…

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Speed, glorious speed! She whipped around a curve and then accelerated even more. Her car was a "rental" from a track mechanic looking to make a little extra cash on the side and he'd also told her that Joe Asakura was in fact currently out on the track, driving. But until she spotted him, she could try to use the sheer joy of moving fast to escape all her worries and despair.

Would she be able to kill a Science Ninja? And if she could, would she really be allowed to quit the Devil Stars? Would she be able to live with herself and be happy with Alan, knowing the terrible price she'd paid for her release? She would lose her father and brothers too; if she quit, she was sure they would never accept her again.

She pushed the gas pedal harder, seeking to reach that edge of chaos where all her thoughts would fall away and leave only instinct and reflexes. Now she could see a blue car up ahead of her. That could be him –Alan's long lost friend and someone who had escaped her mother's attack, someone who had escaped from Galactor and survived. She needed to catch up and get a closer look at him. She wasn't driving her own car and she wasn't as familiar with how this one handled on a track, but she was sure that she could drive it faster yet…

She was wrong! She was careening out of control, she was crashing…

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Everything was blurry, fuzzy… Where was she? What was happening? But her mind, and her vision, cleared and she came to her senses…

She was sitting in the passenger seat of an unmoving car, and its driver was-

_It was him!_

Those sharp, intense eyes, that face –even nine years later, they were unmistakable. This was indeed the boy from the photograph. This was George Asakura, alive and well.

It took all of her will to not react with excitement, to not blurt out everything.

But what had happened? Why was she in his car? A quick glance in the side mirror, though, brought reality back with a slam. On the track behind them, her "rental" car was now a wreck that had exploded into flames.

_Oh no…_

"Hi there," said George, "Glad you're okay. I'll take you home, just give me directions."

With that, he began driving towards the track's exit. _Damn_, he was sure blasé about near-fatal crashes! He was right, though; there was really nothing for them to do here now except get out of the way and let the track's emergency crew deal with the mess. And she didn't want to face that mechanic who'd let her "rent" some unknowing racer's car…

"I… uh, I need to be at work. It's a building downtown, on the corner of Main and Sixth." And she really did need to be there quickly too, before Dina or any of the others discovered that it wasn't really her sleeping on that couch.

"I know where that is. I can take you there, no problem."

"That's kind of you…"

"Oh right, I haven't even told you my name. I'm Joe Asakura."

"I'm Alicia." And I know who you _really_ are, she thought.

"So anyway," said George, after they were on the highway, "Do you race that circuit often?"

"Only when I'm really irritated. Racing always makes me feel a lot better."

She just stared ahead as she said this, her mind spinning. How could she broach the subject? Considering his past, it probably wouldn't be too smart to just ask "Hey, did you use to live on BC Island? Do you remember Alan?"

"Yeah, me too," he replied. "The best thing to do when I'm stressed is jump in the car and drive."

A kindred spirit… She turned her head to look at him again.

She'd been focusing on his face –until now. He was wearing a t-shirt with a big #2 on it. It was the same t-shirt that Dr. Nambu's chauffer had been wearing last night–the chauffer who drove like a racing pro. He was Dr. Nambu's chauffer!

Her heart was racing, but she tried her best to let none of her shock and surprise show on her face. She had to think…

The Asakuras had been killed for trying to defect to the ISO. She had no idea how George had ended up alive in Utoland instead of buried in his grave on BC Island, but it made sense that the ISO might have been behind his rescue and that he would be working for them now.

She remembered the maneuvers he'd pulled off the night before, when she'd attacked Dr. Nambu's car. He had more than just racing talent; he had the skills of someone with experience in combat situations. After what she'd put him through last night, sending him careening off the side of a bridge, no wonder he acted like her accident today was no big deal.

And _how_, she wondered, had he survived her rose bomb's explosion, along with Dr. Nambu? He was definitely no mere chauffer; he had to be some kind of undercover security officer in the ISO, on duty as Dr. Nambu's bodyguard last night.

But, she realized, an awkward silence had ensued while she was lost in thought. She needed to keep making conversation.

"Is your life so stressful?"

He reacted with a brief, bitter laugh –one that he tried quickly to downplay.

"Nah, no more so than any other guy racing the circuit around here, hoping to win some prize money so he can eat and pay his bills."

"Oh, what I meant was, you must have a lot of driving experience. I've heard of you, Joe, and what I've heard is that you're a hotshot racer who wins quite often."

But he just shrugged modestly, and didn't reply.

She went back to her earlier thoughts. He had to be some kind of ISO operative… She glanced briefly at his arms, extended towards the steering wheel. They were taut with lean muscle, their veins well defined. No, he clearly did a heck of a lot more than just drive cars. He was a trained fighter of some kind.

And he was close to Dr. Nambu, the director of the Science Ninja Team. He might even _know_ the Science Ninja Team, know some of their secrets.

And then the wheels of her mind squealed and took off spinning.

_A highly skilled driver, close to Dr. Nambu, going by the name "Joe"…_

_Everyone knew that the Condor's own personal vehicle was a race car._

_There were a few soldiers in Galactor who'd encountered the Science Ninjas and survived to tell about it and word had it that the Condor was also sometimes "Condor Joe."_

_And then there was that word painted messily on the wall of Alan and George's old hide out: "Condors."_

_She was now sitting right beside Condor Joe of the Science Ninja Team, and he had no idea at all who she was, no idea she was the one who'd tried to kill him the night before!_

They were nearing the corner of Main and Sixth, and he was pulling up in front of the building. _She had to think, and fast!_

She could catch him completely off guard and probably kill him, all by herself. She would become a revered _hero_ within Galactor for her feat. Onna Taicho would absolutely grant her complete freedom if she could pull this off. Her glory would spread to her family too, but at the same time, it would wipe the scorn off her mother's face forever and replace it with shame when she found out that her daughter had done the job that she'd failed at all those years ago.

But to be free, she would have to kill Alan's friend! And no matter what his dread and bloody reputation was within Galactor's ranks, he seemed like… a good guy.

Could she honestly do this?

She had to buy herself some time, some time to think about everything carefully. And, she had to get back inside that room upstairs and dismantle her "dummy" self before Dina discovered her deception and disobedience.

She got out of his car, but instead of shutting the door she leaned towards him, trying to smile flirtatiously.

"So, maybe I can race you at the track sometime."

"That sounds good to me," he said, leaning back and resting his left arm casually on his open window's sill, the other hand on the wheel.

"Cool, let's meet at the track around this time tomorrow."

"Sure, babe, but I'm not going easy on you."

It was done. She had a date with the Condor for tomorrow, but the Devil Stars' mission against Dr. Nambu and all the Science Ninjas was supposed to happen the day after that. She'd figure out a way to sneak out again tomorrow, and make sure that no one was following her.

With a last smile at the Condor, she shut his car's door and turned around to walk inside the building.

Her heart nearly froze in terror –Onna Taicho was standing right there!

There was nothing to do but keep walking towards her now, as if nothing were untoward. The Condor might well still be watching her.

"Sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to be late for work today," she said meekly to Onna Taicho, knowing that he might still be able to hear her too. She had never seen so much cold fury in anyone's eyes. She was tough, but the hand that flew up to smack her face was brutal, and she cried out, spinning around and doubling over. But the Condor's car was driving away.

She hurried in to the building's lobby, with no thought but to get away from Onna Taicho. She made it inside the elevator but her hands were shaking, and in her panic, she couldn't remember which floor the suite of rooms they were staying in was on…

Oh no. Onna Taicho was striding smoothly across the lobby now, straight towards her like a panther closing in for the kill and the look on her face, the madness in her eyes… She was a sadist.

She was _evil_.

And now she was in the elevator too. She'd pressed a button, the door had closed and they were rising.

Onna Taicho grabbed her neck, digging in with her long, sharp nails, and slammed her head up against the wall. The elevator's harsh light gleamed off the knife she held in her other hand.

Pain blossomed from the back of her skull. She couldn't move; she couldn't _breathe_.

"I'd slit your throat here and now, #2," she growled silkily, "And let you bleed to death, were it not for the fact that you just _might_ still be useful."

But the elevator was stopping, its doors opening, and there were people standing there. Instantly, the knife disappeared and the hand released her throat. Onna Taicho stepped out into the hallway and Alicia could only follow her, trying not to gasp desperately for air as the people, now boarding the elevator, peered at them curiously.

0000000000

By the time they'd reached the suite, Onna Taicho's fury had shifted to stern coldness. She'd ordered the other Devil Stars to ensure that Alicia didn't sneak out again, but then she'd left without saying where she was going or when she'd return.

Dina wasn't taking any chances; she'd locked Alicia in a room with one door and no windows.

She was sitting on the floor, clutching her knees to her chest, trembling, as residual terror from the elevator still flowed in her veins.

It was all so sickeningly clear to Alicia now. Onna Taicho was_ never_ going to let her leave the Devil Stars or leave Galactor's service. She had no concept of honor; her insinuations to Alicia were the games of a cat toying with a mouse –torturing, manipulating. It was all for her own advantage and perverse amusement.

Other than the faint band of light slipping in beneath the door, all was dark. She could dimly hear a television, playing some inane sitcom with a laugh track, from the other room. The other Devil Stars were watching _television_ and she was in here, in an abyss of misery, pressing her face to her knees to absorb the tears.

Alan…

_I'm sorry, Alan. I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do…_

Eventually, it came to her in a flash.

The Condor! George!

She could still try to meet him tomorrow, like they'd planned, but not to race and sure as hell not to try to kill him to gain glory within Galactor.

Screw Galactor! She was going to confess all and beg him for help. He had escaped Galactor; he would help her escape too. And he surely had access to the full power and resources of the ISO to keep her safe from Galactor's vengeance. The God Phoenix itself would fly straight to BC Island and bring Alan, his old friend, to safety too –before Galactor even knew what was happening! She would tell the ISO everything that she knew! _God damn Galactor_! She would betray it utterly.

No matter what it took –even if she had to fight and defeat Dina and all the other girls- she would get out of this building and meet Joe Asakura at the track tomorrow. This room she was locked in was just an office with a desk console –no food or water, no bathroom. Even Dina wouldn't keep her locked in here until it was time to depart for the mission –that wasn't until the day after tomorrow. No, she would get her chance to escape before then…

She had a plan now. She stood up and walked over to the desk. It might contain a letter opener or something that she could use as a weapon –she would probably need one.

She turned on a little desk lamp and searched the desk and its drawers quietly, finding nothing that would function as a weapon, but she did find a small telephone, with a cable wrapped around it.

And there was a phone jack on the wall beside the desk.

_Oh please…_

It worked! She had a dial tone. Quickly, she punched in the number for the phone at the Pastor's residence, at the church, in far-away BC Island.

And Alan was there. His voice was, in that moment, the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.

"Al!" he said, "I've been so worried about you! You're okay. Where are you now? Are you back on the island?"

But she had to whisper, praying that the TV in the other room would drown out her voice.

"Alan, listen to me. I have to be quiet and I can't talk long. I'm in Utoland."

"Utoland? But what's going on?"

"I can't explain right now, but you have to trust me –I know the right thing to do. Just get ready to leave BC Island, on a moment's notice, okay?"

"Okay," he said, after a pause, "Of course I trust you. I _love_ you…"

Despite the danger and wretchedness of her situation, she could feel a warm glow spread through her body. She could feel hope again. This was all going to be okay…

"Alan, my answer is yes!" It was so hard to keep her voice at a whisper. "I will marry you!"

"Alicia…"

"But," she added, feeling new tears in her eyes now, "You could probably find a girl who's less trouble."

"You're worth it; you've _always_ been the only girl for me."

The sound of a door shutting, the television going silent, foot steps and voices…

"Alan, I really have to go now, but we'll be together soon!"

"Alicia-"

She hung up the phone, hastily pulled the cable from the wall and shoved it all back inside the desk drawer. She turned off the lamp and moved across the room quietly to sit again on the floor there, as if she hadn't been doing anything.

Onna Taicho was here again, and Alicia could hear her now, even through the door.

"Even I didn't realize just how quickly Galactor could create an environmental disaster. Plans have changed; Dr. Nambu is being lured out even as we speak and we attack today. Prepare to leave now!"

_Nooo! She had no way to meet Joe until tomorrow; the mission wasn't supposed to happen until the day after tomorrow!_

Her door flew open and light flooded the dark office. "You!" snapped Dina, "Get your uniform -we're leaving."

0000000000

They were all on the roof of the building, with their Devil Star uniforms on. Onna Taicho handed a small device to each of them.

"Lapel communicators, similar to mine –attach them to the fur of your collars. Press once to turn them on, and then keep them on for the duration of the mission, so you are all in contact with one another."

The circular Devil Star ship was in the sky, whirling its way towards them.

"My lady," Dina was saying now, "We haven't had much time to plan, and-"

"You know everything you need to know. The ship's pilot will take you to the right location on the track –and then wait there for the train. Now get on board!"

Alicia hung back, still frantically trying to think of a way to revise her plan. Could she somehow get a chance to speak to the Condor during the mission? Would that be possible?

But the others had all jumped up to the ship's entry port, and she had no choice but to follow them. But before she could, Onna Taicho's hand clamped tightly onto her shoulder and pulled her around to face her.

It was as if they were back in the elevator…

"Don't get any _ideas_, #2. You will serve as a true Devil Star today or I will personally see to it that you perish slowly and miserably."

Even with no hand upon her, it was as if Onna Taicho was squeezing her neck, choking her breath.

"But not just you."

_Oh no! Surely not her brothers!_

"That young pastor at that church –what's his name? Alan Russo?"

"Noooo!" The words burst from her throat; she couldn't have stopped them.

"Oh yes, you stupid, stupid girl!" She laughed horribly. "I know all about you and him; Galactor watches its own. And let me assure you, I'm skilled in methods of inflicting excruciating agony that leave victims alive for days but begging for death during every one of them. Unless you want your precious Alan to personally discover exactly what that's like, _you will serve as a true Devil Star!"_

_She needed the Condor –he was her and Alan's only chance now._

"Now, up you go –get on board. I have a train to go catch."

She boarded the ship, trying to cling to her last vestige of hope and stave off utter despair. The ship left Utoland behind and headed off for a flat, unpopulated area of marshland, traversed only by the tracks of a high speed maglev train. They reached the designated location and then they waited in the vicinity…

Eventually, a soldier at the ship's controls reported that a train was coming, and then Onna Taicho's voice filled the ship, coming from its communications system and from their lapel communicators. She was on that train, down below, as was an unsuspecting Dr. Nambu.

Alicia wondered where the Condor was. Onna Taicho was sure that the Science Ninjas would be guarding the train somehow. Was the God Phoenix out there somewhere now? She was going to have to try to locate the Condor, and speak with him, while making it seem to Onna Taicho and the other Devil Stars that she was actually attacking him.

"This is our chance, ladies. I will take care of Nambu, the rest of you go after the Science Ninja Team. Devil Star #2?"

"Yes, my lady," said Alicia. She'd been standing with the other Devil Stars while they waited for their orders. Even in Onna Taicho's absence, though, they all still stood in a row together, leaving her out front by herself. She had known them all since the beginning, yet they had never been her friends –not then and not now.

"You aren't comfortable being a member of Galactor yet. It's Galactor law that in order to protect our secrets, children of our members are forbidden from leaving Galactor. You have no choice. Therefore, go and kill the Science Ninja Team with the techniques your mother taught you! Keep attacking until you have defeated them all."

It was time for them now to head out in their jet cars, all docked around the ship's perimeter, forming the points of its star shape. So they scattered in different directions, each of them running to the jet car that was theirs.

As she ran, Alicia felt as if she were in a fog.

All she could see in her mind were Alan's beautiful, sad blue eyes –the way he'd been looking at her the last time she'd seen him- and the intense blue eyes of Joe Asakura, the Condor.

_Please_, she prayed silently, _Please!_

0000000000

"There's a bridge up ahead. Plant explosives there, right in the middle, and time the fuse such that the explosion occurs in… five minutes!" Those had been Onna Taicho's orders, coming through their lapel communicators, and they had carried them out successfully. The timing of the fuse had been a tricky estimation, but it had worked; the moment that the train was atop the explosives' location, Onna Taicho cut the front car from the rest of the train and surged ahead in it, leaving the rest of the train to be destroyed, along with the bridge, when the explosives detonated beneath it mere seconds later.

But Science Ninjas were here!

The Swan attacked #3 and #5, causing their jet cars to hook together, spin out of control and crash in flames.

They were dead.

_She had to stay alive; she had to find the Condor! Where was he?_

"Destroy the tracks up ahead of this train car, where they cross the lake!" barked Onna Taicho's voice from her lapel. But there were sounds of fighting in the background –what was going on down there in that train car? Was Onna Taicho being attacked by Science Ninjas? Would they succeed in capturing or killing her?

That would sure as hell be good! Maybe the Condor was in the train car right now. She flew towards it, instead of towards the lake.

"My lady!" said Dina's voice, frantically, "I'm at the lake with #4 but our explosives charges are malfunctioning!"

"Then use your jet cars' self destruct function!" yelled Onna Taicho's voice. Alicia could still hear fighting in the background when she spoke and now she saw two Galactor soldiers come flying out of the back of the train car, tumbling onto the tracks below as the car continued to speed towards the lake. Yes, there was at least one Science Ninja on that train.

If only she knew for certain if the Condor was in that train car! He was the only one she could approach, the only one who might believe her.

"I'm almost to the lake! We'll use my explosive charges!" called Alicia into her lapel as she now sped in their direction. She had to make it seem to Onna Taicho that she was participating in the attack, as a true Devil Star.

If only the Science Ninjas would hurry up and kill her!

"There's no _time_ for that!" screeched Onna Taicho's voice.

"But our self destructs can't be activated remotely! And there's no countdown!" wailed Dina's voice.

"Unless you and #4 want your entire families to die, you destroy that track this instant!" said Onna Taicho, her voice now pure venom.

There was no reply, but up ahead Alicia saw an explosion erupt into the air, gleaming off the lake's surface and obliterating the stretch of track beneath.

#1 and #4 had just killed themselves, in obedience to their orders and to spare their families.

She was the only Devil Star left here now. For a moment, all she could do was hover in place and watch the smoke rising into the air. But then she looked behind and saw the train car approaching.

On its roof stood Onna Taicho and Gatchaman, locked in a stand off. But the train car was going to hit the destroyed section of track over the lake any moment now, and when it derailed and crashed into the lake it was damned unlikely that anyone on it or in it would survive.

Her heart was in her throat. Would Onna Taicho die? Where was the Condor –_why wasn't he here_? _Was he inside the train car?_

But the Devil Star ship came whirling out of nowhere and Onna Taicho leapt to safety inside it, escaping from Gatchaman, as the train car derailed at high speed, went hurtling into the lake and was swallowed up by its waters.

She could Onna Taicho's voice crying "Die, Gatchaman, you and Dr. Nambu!" and her triumphant laughter.

The Devil Star ship flew off into the distance. Onna Taicho had survived.

_Damn it! Damn everything!_

"Devil Star #2!" It was her voice yet again.

"This ship has powerful long range sensors, so I can tell you now that the Condor is on the tracks, much further ahead. Here are your final orders: go and attack him with every bit of Devil Star skill that you possess! And know this: I can see your every move. If I sense that you are, in any way, shirking or if you try to escape… Well, your Alan will pay the price for that!"

She had no choice but to obey.

She guided her jet car down, and she was speeding along the tracks towards the Condor.

She could see him, and now he could see her.

He was sitting on the hood of his car, aglow in the rays of the setting sun and she could see the shuriken in his teeth. He was waiting for her…

George Asakura.

Her mother had killed his parents. She had shot them both, right in front of him.

All he must be seeing, as he sat there waiting for her to get closer, was yet another Devil Star –just like the one that killed his parents.

He would want revenge. Absolutely, the Condor would want vengeance.

_Sure, babe, but I'm not going easy on you._

If she tried to talk to him, if she tried to beg for mercy, if she tried to explain about Alan…

She would never get that chance from him. She could see it in his posture, tense and ready; she could see it in the way he held the shuriken clenched in his teeth. And were she able to see his eyes, his hard and intense eyes, she would see it there too.

No mercy.

_Never show mercy._

She had no chance for mercy from George Asakura or from the Condor.

If she fled now and tried to go into hiding on her own, Onna Taicho would know –she was watching her now on the long range sensors. Even if, by the rarest of luck, she were able to flee and hide, Onna Taicho would kill Alan.

If she fought the Condor now and managed to kill him, Alan would be spared. But they would never be able to live happily together; her soul would belong to Galactor and Alan would soon realize that he loved a… murderer. A monster.

She could never escape the role that she was doomed from birth to play in the struggle between Galactor and the ISO. She could never be free.

She stood up in her jet car, speeding ever closer to him, and she pulled out a rose bomb.

She hurled it at him with her truest aim. For Alan's sake, Onna Taicho had to believe that she had genuinely tried to kill the Condor.

Maybe she would kill him.

But he threw his shuriken with such supreme skill that it caught her rose bomb and drove it back towards her and his shuriken pierced her and pinned the rose bomb to her chest.

Her jet car kept flying and soared past him, leaving him behind. She knew exactly how long it took for a rose bomb to explode. She knew that she could pull it out and throw it aside, if she acted in that instant.

But Alan had faith that when the time came, she would know the right thing to do.

This was that time, and now she knew.

She left the rose bomb where it was, pinned to her chest.

_Alan…_

Wind rushed past her head, causing her hated mask and wig fall away and she could feel the fresh breeze on her face now as she flew towards the setting sun.

"Why?" she whispered, "Why can't the children of Galactor have the power to escape their fate? I was so looking forward to tomorrow's race, Joe. Bye…"

Her rose bomb exploded.

0000000000

**Epilogue:**

_One week later:_

It was she. Alan hadn't seen that woman in nine years, but she was unmistakable: tall and slender with blond hair, dressed to kill and stepping out of an extremely expensive car to enter BC Island's most exclusive Social Club.

If the whispered rumors about this woman were true, she would know –she would know where Alicia was. He didn't care who she was or what the consequences of demanding information from her might be, just as long as he learned… something. Fear and anxiety about his fiancé's fate had driven him to desperation. There was no one at the house that could tell him anything –only a housekeeper who didn't know when the family would be returning.

So he shoved his way through the throng of bowing and scraping flunkies. Two of her cohorts –men in dark suits- grabbed him as approached her and were about to throw him to the ground but she held up her hand abruptly.

"Wait! I want to hear what this one has to say."

The men didn't release him from their grips, but they let him remain standing.

"Tell me where Alicia is!"

"Oh, I am so very sorry."

He could only stare at her blankly.

"You see, Alicia told me all about you."

"What?" What the hell did she mean?

"It was going to be her final mission. I'd agreed to let her… retire early. Sometimes you can tell when a girl's heart just isn't in her work; in such cases, it's best to make a rare exception and just let them go. She was so happy, so eager to return to you."

"Was?" His heart was pounding ice water through his veins. "Where is she now?"

"She was attacked and killed by Condor Joe of the Science Ninja Team."

_No! God, no! Not Alicia! Not George!_

He had believed he could save Alicia; he had hoped and so desperately believed that she would be freed from her fate.

_She hadn't wanted to hurt or kill anybody! She should never have died!_

And it was George, his friend, who had killed her.

In that moment, even as his mind screamed and darkness beckoned, he turned away from the woman abruptly, without a word, and he started walking away -one step after another, each a separate act of conscious will. But he couldn't have said who he hated more: that Galactor woman or Condor Joe of the Science Ninja Team.

In that moment, they were the same.


End file.
